I still remember the thrill of buying my first disposable camera . Cheap plastic, a paper box, and a roll of 24 exposures that felt like treasure. Every click was a decision. There was no deleting, no trying again. I learned to look slowly. To frame carefully. I took photos of ordinary things: a glass of water on the kitchen table, the way sunlight folded across the floor.

My love for analog photography never left me. There's a quiet discipline to it. The weight of patience, the joy of uncertainty. Still, digital tools have widened my world. I can spend hours chasing light, reworking a composition, waiting for the wind to still. I’m drawn to remote places, places that ask you to listen before they show you anything. That solitude sharpens the senses. It's where I do my best work.

This is my practice. My story. My quiet way of paying attention and sharing the wonder I find with those who are willing to look a little longer.